After Surgery
by kayakingladybug
Summary: Set after Michael's brain surgery. The General has no intention of letting him and Sara go free, not when he needs to keep Lincoln motivated to get Scylla. Please review, I love hearing your feedback:-)
1. Chapter 1

"It's not about taking down the Company. It's about becoming the Company." Michael stared intently at Sara as he made the revelation. Sara had to shake her head in awe. Michael had just woken up after undergoing major brain surgery, and already he was making connections and understanding what had been missed by the rest of them.

Just as she was opening her mouth to reply, the door to his room opened and an orderly popped her head in. "Ms. Tancredi? The General wants to have a word with you". Sara nodded and looked at Michael questioningly.

"Go. I'll be right here when you get back", Michael said with that little half smile of his as she stepped into his arms. He held her tight for a moment before releasing her and nodding towards the door where the orderly stood waiting. Sara couldn't help but look back at him as she left, reassuring herself that he was ok now, that he was healthy. He met her eyes briefly, before she stepped out the door and couldn't see him anymore. As she followed the orderly to the General's office, another orderly walked by her, equipped with drugs and IV's.

When she walked into the office, she was surprised to find that he wasn't alone. Lincoln was also there, working, she supposed, on getting them all out of there now that Michael's operation was done. "Sara" he acknowledged her.

"Ah, Ms. Tancredi. So nice to see you", the General said warmly. "I trust the Michael is doing well?"

"Um, yes, he is. What's going on here?" she asked, looking between Link and the General. Link seemed a little too comfortable in this office, and the atmosphere was a little more relaxed than she would have expected. While it perhaps should have be reassuring, it did nothing more than put her on edge.

"I decided that it was time that you were brought into the loop. Lincoln here is now working with me to recover Scylla and bring it back here before it falls into the wrong hands." Sara looked hard at Link to see if he was playing some sort of game, and he met her gaze steadily, giving nothing away. "In exchange, we performed Michael's surgery. Furthermore, once Scylla is safely back with the Company, the three of you will have the slate wiped clean. You will never have to deal with the authorities or with the Company again."

Sara wasn't sure if she had heard correctly. She looked at Link again, before returning her attention to the General and finding her voice. "So…Link is working for you now? In exchange for Michael's life".

"Would you have done anything different, Sara?" Link asked her, almost pleading.

She thought about it for a moment. She thought about her overdose, finding her dead father, the feeling of Kellerman forcing her head underwater in the bathtub as he questioned her. She thought about her time with LJ in Panama with Gretchen's cold eyes and her ease with the whip. She thought about the life shed had a year before, working at the prison trying to make a difference, which the Company had taken from her. And she thought about Michael. She thought about the first time she'd seen him at the prison, how he was charming and flirtatious, not creepy the way that most of the inmates were when they first realized the doctor was a woman. She remembered the flower he gave her on her birthday and the shock and thrill she'd felt the first time he kissed her. She thought about how much the two of them had gone through together, and about how as she lost so much he was always there for her, always there to support her and make her feel special when it seemed that everything was crashing to the ground. She thought about how strong he'd been while his brain was betraying him, making him weak and unable to think clearly. She thought about the anguish she felt as she saw him suffer, yet try to make everything better for her, always for her. "No", she said finally. "No, I wouldn't have made a different choice". She looked at the General, the man responsible for so much pain, not only to her, but to everyone around her. "But I want to know what your plans are for Michael while Link is off doing this for you".

He almost smiled. "Michael will remain here. And, because of his unfortunate habit of escaping from seemingly secure facilities, he is going to be kept unconscious. Which means you have a choice, Ms. Tancredi", he said noticing that she had jumped to her feet at this revelation. "You may remain here with Michael, if you wish, or the Company will set you up with a room at a five star hotel nearby. There will be no expense to you. However, you may not have both. If you remain with Michael, you will not be permitted to leave the facility. And if you choose to go to the hotel, you are free to roam around if you wish, but you will not be permitted to see Michael".

Sara couldn't hide her horror. "But Michael's just had _brain surgery_! You can't keep him unconscious; you have to monitor his cognition, and motor skills! He could still experience complications from the surgery! He has to be awake!"

The General held up his hand to silence her. "Relax. We are well aware of all this. Michael will be partially woken up once a day to monitor cognition. He won't be fully conscious, but he will be awake enough to speak and comprehend what's happening around him. He will be awake for an hour unless the doctors say otherwise. Additionally, once every three days he will be woken up fully so that we can monitor his motor skills. This will only be about a half hour before he is put under again. So what is your decision Ms. Tancredi?"

Sara looked to Lincoln for support, but he looked away from her and did not say anything. "I…here, of course. I'll stay here with Michael".

The General seemed satisfied with her response. "I figured as much. Now here are the ground rules. You will be told this only once. You will be allowed to stay with Michael; however there is to be no passing of notes to him, no coded messages, no hint of planning an escape or some way of bringing down the Company. If we find any indication of this, Michael will be killed. For this reason, an orderly will be in the room as much as possible. You will be allowed to keep your phone to communicate with Lincoln, but all calls will be monitored and Michael will not be allowed to speak to him. While we will not make you leave when we partially wake Michael up, you will have to stay on the other side of the room so that you cannot whisper to him or attempt some other unauthorized form of communication. When he is fully woken up for motor skills testing you will be required to leave the room, and can look in through a window so you can see one another. If any of these rules are not followed, or if you attempt something that you know that the Company will not look upon favorably, Michael will be killed. No second chances." Sara didn't know what to say, so she simply nodded.

He then turned his attention to Link. "Now Lincoln, just to be clear, you have several rules to follow as well. If you try to double cross me, Michael will be killed. If you fail to retrieve Scylla, Michael will be killed. If you try to break Michael out, Michael will be killed. If you do any of these and Michael is killed, we will then take Sara as a hostage instead and it will be her life you are gambling with. Do you have any questions?"

Lincoln's face was a mixture of horror and repulsion. Sara was glad to see that she wasn't the only one who was sick to her stomach about what they had walked into. "No." He said, trying to retain a cool demeanor. "No, I understand."

The General nodded. "Good. Then I think we're done here. You can leave with your team to find Scylla. And Sara, you may return to Michael."

Link's eyes narrowed. "I want to speak to him first. Let him know what's going on. He should hear it from me."

"Unfortunately, that is not an option. Michael has already received a dose of drugs that will have rendered him unconscious. He will not be able to hear you, even if you try to give him a message. Off you go." With that, Sara and Link were escorted out of the office.


	2. Chapter 2

Sara took a deep breath before walking back into Michael's room. The curtains were drawn, so she allowed herself a moment to believe that he would be awake and smiling at her when she walked in, that the General had been lying when he said that Michael had already been drugged. But as she stepped into the room, the first thing her eyes found was the bed, or more specifically Michael lying on the bed. His face was a mask of perfect serenity. His eyes were shut, with his arms resting gently at his sides. His chest was slowly rising and falling, and she could almost believe that he was simply asleep, except for the IV, slowly dripping into his arm.

She slowly made her way over to him, and sat down in the chair that she had been sitting in earlier, when he had told her about his epiphany about Scylla. She gently took one of his hands in both of hers and for a while she just stared at his face. He looked so peaceful that she found it disturbing. Michael was always thinking, always scheming. Even when asleep, there was a slight shrewdness to his face that indicated that he was working things out in his mind. Seeing him lying there completely relaxed was unnerving.

After twenty or so minutes an orderly came into the room to check Michael's blood pressure and heart rate. Instead of leaving, she pulled up a chair by the door and sat down with a book. Sara assumed that she was there to supervise and make sure that Sara didn't try to pass messages to Michael. Although how she was supposed to give him messages while his mind was suppressed by drugs was beyond her. Even if she'd had an idea of how to get him out of this situation. Which she didn't.

For the rest of the day she just sat there with Michael and talked to him about nothing. She told him stories from her childhood, such as the time her dad had promised to teach her how to ride an bike but Bruce had instead, or the time that Melissa Franklin had dared her to eat a beetle for a quarter when they were in second grade. She told him that she missed him and that she loved him, and she told him about how Link was going to save them and that it wouldn't be like this permanently. Never did his facial expression change or did he give any indication that he could hear her at all. At some point the orderly left and was replaced by another one who brought her food that she barely touched. And later still another orderly replaced him, bringing in a cot for her to sleep in. Although she would've preferred to sleep in the chair with her head on his chest, she knew that she wouldn't get a very good sleep if she did. She wanted to be well rested so that Michael wouldn't spend his precious hour of being awake worrying about her.

The next morning there was a new orderly sitting by the door, and there was a tray of hot food waiting for her. The orderly noticed her eyeing it suspiciously and smiled. "It's ok to eat. We aren't going to drug you unless we need you as a hostage." While not the kind of reassurance that she was looking for, she nonetheless ate the food and felt a little better after she did. Although looking at Michel, who had not moved at all during the night, made her feel queasy all over again. She took her old position beside him in the chair by his bed and took his hand again. She didn't like how relaxed his hand was, how it just rested in hers with no reaction at all. She wanted him to hold her hand as well, or even have it resting in her hands by his doing, not hers. She didn't like how it just rested there, a reminder that Michael was completely unaware of her presence, and unable to think.

"Oh, Michael" she breathed, and gently kissed him. He did not respond. She wrapped her arms around him, closed her eyes, and cried into his chest. How long she stayed that way she didn't know, but eventually she sat up, wiped her eyes, and forced herself to be strong. Michael needed her, and she couldn't waste time crying when there was no one there to comfort her. Hands shaking slightly, she pulled out her phone to call Link.

She told him that she didn't have any news about Michael but would call him after they woke him up. She asked him about how his search for Scylla was going, and they both pretended to be ok with how their situation had turned out. Lincoln sounded overly confident, which lead her to believe that he really didn't have anything yet, and she hoped that there was nothing in her voice to reveal how desperate she felt, and how frightened she was. They didn't talk nearly as long as she would have liked, and all too soon she was sitting with the unresponsive Michael again. She wanted to talk to him and have him respond. She wanted to see his mind at work, hear him reason things out, see that fire in his eyes when he figured something out. She wanted to have him hold her and reassure her that he was working on a plan to get them out of there and look at her with those incredible eyes. She also knew that sitting there wanting things was not going to improve anything.

Just before two, an orderly walked in with a syringe in one hand and a small vial of some sort of medication in the other. Looking at Sara, he said "we're going to wake him up now. You're welcome to stay, but if you try anything…"

"I know. You'll kill him and I will take his place as a hostage" Sara replied. The orderly nodded and slowly slid the syringe into Michael's arm.


	3. Chapter 3

Dark. There was nothing but the dark. It was unfathomable, the extent of the darkness. There was no indication of another living person, of anything at all. There was nothing but black.

Michael opened his eyes. Bright. Now it was too bright. He shut his eyes again, choosing to return, momentarily, to the dark. It was less painful on the eyes. He opened his eyes again to examine his surroundings. He was lying on his back. The ceiling was white. What he could see of the walls were white. He shut his eyes again and tried to think.

Where was he? Trying to think was like trying to walk through water when it's up to your neck. Not impossible, but painfully slow and exhausting. He was…with the Company. They'd performed brain surgery on him. And after that…he'd had some sort of revelation. He'd been telling Sara…

Sara! Michael's eyes snapped open. Where was she? She'd been there; she had to still be there! She wouldn't have left. He looked around the room, and there she was. Sitting on a chair, holding one of his hands, staring at him with what looked like fear. How had he not felt her hand before now? And why did she look so afraid?

"Michael, I'm here", she said, never taking her eyes off of his face. Had he said her name out loud? He wasn't sure. The fog in his mind was making it difficult to focus on much of anything.

She looked so worried. Michael tried to find his voice. "Sara." His voice was not much more than a whisper, but at least this time he could say for certain that he had used it. And the relief that spread through her beautiful face confirmed that.

"How…how do you feel?" she looked over him as she asked the question, and for the first time he realized that there was someone else in the room. He felt a nagging sensation somewhere in the back of his mind, but before he was able to reach that thought the fog closed around it and he couldn't feel it anymore. "Michael?" He realized he still had not answered her.

_Focus Michael_. "Groggy. I can't…think. What did they do to me?" He almost couldn't believe that he'd managed to make the connection between his current state and the Company. He was so fuzzy that he could barely focus long enough to form a sentence. But somehow he just knew that this was the Company's doing, just like he recognized Sara. He didn't have to think about it, or focus to reach that thought. It was already there.

Sara came and knelt beside him, so that she could look straight in his eyes. "Michael, I know how difficult it is for you to concentrate right now. But I need to focus on what I'm saying because it's really important. I promise that there are no codes, nothing for you to figure out. If I try something like that, they'll kill you. You are being held hostage by the Company until Lincoln finds Scylla and brings it to the General. They're keeping you sedated except for when they wake you up to monitor how you're doing after the surgery."

For a moment he just stared at her blankly, trying to make sense of what she'd just told him. Link was…working with the company? And if he was a hostage, why was she there? "We have to get out of here then" he finally said.

Instead of agreeing with him, Sara looked terrified and looked at the orderly again. He had completely forgotten that there was someone else there. "No, we aren't getting out of here. We aren't planning, or sneaking, or talking in codes. If we do anything, they'll _kill_ you. And I don't think I could stop them. I think they'd drug me first, so that they still have me as a hostage. We have to trust Link. We can't stop this one". She looked defeated and desperate at the same time.

Michael felt like he should argue, try to make her see reason, but he was already having troubles remembering what he was arguing. The fog in his brain was rendering him totally useless. And he was so tired…

"Michael!" He opened his eyes with difficulty. He hadn't even realized that he'd closed them. Sara was still there, and there were tears in her eyes. "Michael, please stay with me." She was rubbing his hand. Why was she doing that? It felt so nice, so relaxing. Michael's eyes started to close again. "Michael, please." Sara was pleading. As much as he wanted to sleep, he didn't want to disappoint her.

He forced his eyes open, and gave her a sleepy smile. "I'm not going anywhere". She put her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, shaking with the tears that he knew she was fighting. He put his arm around her and gently rubbed her back, as best he could. Every movement was tiring, but he was not going to force Sara to suffer alone. Even though he wasn't coherent enough to fully understand what was upsetting her, he knew that he had to stay awake. For Sara.

After a while, Sara got herself under control. When she pulled away, he could see the tear stains on her face, but she looked as though she had succeeded in holding most of them back. She still looked beautiful to him. "I'm sorry." She laughed a little and wiped her eyes. "We only have an hour, and I'm falling to pieces on you." He smiled at her again, and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. Even with his mind all muddled, Michael knew that he had to do something to escape this, to prevent the pain this was causing her.

The orderly spoke up for the first time. "Ms. Tancredi, I am going to have to ask you to go to the end of the room so that we can perform a few tests on Mr. Scofield". Sara nodded reluctantly and went to stand over by the wall. He wanted her to come back. The orderly took the seat that Sara had just vacated. "Mr. Scofield, I want you to follow my finger with your eyes". He did. Tests like this continued for the next several minutes. Finally the orderly nodded at Sara. "We're done."

Sara rushed back over to her seat. "How long do we have left?"

The orderly checked his watch. "Three minutes". Sara's face became a mask of supressed horror. She nodded.

"What's in three minutes?" Michael asked her, wanting to avoid whatever it was that was upsetting her. There was another nagging sensation at the back of his mind, making him feel like he should already know the answer. Try as he might, he wasn't able to reach it. He was getting very tired of not being able to think, to comprehend what was happening when he was used to being able to grasp everything in an instant.

"They're going to drug you again", Sara was trying very hard to keep her voice calm, to keep Michael from seeing how upset she really was. He could tell that she was upset, but there was a disconnect between that and knowing how to help. He wasn't even really sure why they were drugging him…wait, Sara had said something earlier. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember. He was a hostage. He opened them again.

He didn't know what to say to make her feel better, and he didn't know how to get out of the situation, but he did know that time was wasting before he would be returning to the dark. While that was almost appealing, he was so tired, Sara wasn't there. And he didn't want to leave her. "Then let's not waste the time we have left".

She kissed him. Gently, at first, then a little more passionately. He kissed her back, enjoying the feel of her mouth and the tickle of her hair on his neck. The fog in his brain didn't clear, but he did feel more alive in that moment. For the first time he could _feel_. It was as if all of his nerve endings were firing at the same time, and he became aware of small details for the first time since waking up.

She pulled away too soon, but he took the opportunity to look around the room. He knew he wasn't capable of putting all the pieces together, but he memorized what he could anyway for later, when his mind was clear. "I love you", she breathed.

"I love you too", he said, as he felt a small pinch in his arm. He reached for Sara as the fog darkened and intensified until it swallowed him completely.


	4. Chapter 4

"Ok, thanks Sara". Lincoln hung up the phone. Sara wished he would've stayed on the phone longer. It would've been nice to just talk to someone who was fully conscious and she wasn't afraid would kill Michael if she said the wrong thing. Well, really it would be nice to talk to someone at all. She had only been here for a day, and already boredom was setting in.

When the orderlies switched shifts at around dinner, Sara studied the new one for a while. It was a woman, they always sent women overnight, and she seemed to be in her early fifties. She had light brown hair that was starting to grey in places, and she seemed as safe as anyone from the company could seem. Sara wasn't fool enough to think she could befriend her and use her somehow to help herself and Michael, but she hoped that this woman would be willing to at least talk to her, or maybe give her options on breaking the boredom. Sara didn't regret her decision to stay with Michael, but she did wish she could do something other than sit in the same chair and talk to someone who clearly had no idea she was there.

After a few minutes, Sara cleared her throat. The orderly didn't look up from what she was reading. Gathering up her courage, Sara cleared her throat again and said, voice shaking slightly "What're you reading?"

The orderly looked up at her in surprise. "You're talking to me?"

"You see anyone else in this room who would answer a question when asked?" Sara hadn't meant to be so snide, but the stress of worrying about Michael combined with boredom hadn't left her in the most friendly of moods, which, she reflected, was not going to be helpful in trying to have a conversation with someone.

The woman actually looked rather sympathetic. She glanced at Michael before replying. "No, I suppose not. I'm reading Nancy Drew, actually. My granddaughter is reading it for the first time and wants to talk to me about it, but the last time I read one of these books I must have been thirteen years old. I haven't got a clue what happened in them."

That surprised Sara. Not only that someone working for the Company would read something like Nancy Drew, but also that they would allow something personal about them to be known by a hostage, even something as small as the fact that she had a granddaughter. "How old is your granddaughter?"

"Oh, Meghan? She's nine. Smart as a whip that girl too. She can read well above her age level, although I don't know if Nancy Drew counts as above a nine year old or not. But she can't get enough of them. I don't have a chance of keeping up to her with how fast she's going through them; I just hope I can jog my memory a little by re-reading the first few."

Now Sara didn't know what to think. This woman was easily sharing details about her life, seemingly unconcerned about Sara would do with that information. Was that because she wasn't worried about being found? To be fair Meghan wasn't exactly a unique name and Sara had no idea what this woman's name was. Or did she know something? Were she and Michael never getting out of there? Or was she just being paranoid? After all, there had to be some friendly people who worked for the Company, right? They couldn't all be high up executives and murderers. There had to be a few normal people for whom this was just a job.

The orderly seemed to sense her confusion, because she smiled at her. "You must be getting lonely here, all by yourself. I know you have him", she nodded at Michael, "but he doesn't seem to be very good company."

Sara could feel the tears that always seemed to be just below the surface building again, but she forced them down. "Why are you doing this to him?"

The woman sighed. "Sweetie, you know the answer to that. That boy has an incredible mind, and an incredible will. As much as the Company would like to believe that it's impossible, he would find a way to escape and take you with him. The only way they can prevent that is by making it so that he is physically incapable of it. And seeing as Lincoln would not likely be very willing to look for Scylla if he dies, or is seriously injured, this was the best option."

Sara turned away, making sure that her voice was steady before she replied. "Well, you're right. He would find a way to escape. But _this_? He could still experience complications from the surgery, especially if his brain isn't being stimulated. He died while they were operating on him. I don't want him to do it again."

"We're taking good care of him. I know how difficult it is, but he isn't going to die or experience any complications, so long as you and Lincoln keep up your parts of the deal." Sara nodded. She would never admit it, but hearing the words out loud made her feel a little better. She realized just how much she missed talking to people. Talking to Lincoln on the phone hardly counted, seeing as they were both so afraid of making the Company suspicious that they were attempting something that they kept their conversations as brief as possible.

"Look, you don't have to stay here you know", the woman said after a few minutes of silence. Sara looked at her in surprise. "I don't mean you can leave, but you don't have to stay in this room. You're allowed to wander around this floor as much as you like, you just can't leave it. Might do you some good to get out of here for a bit."

This hadn't even occurred to her. Sara had just assumed that she wasn't allowed to leave Michael's room, but as she thought about it she realized that the General hadn't said anything about that. He had just said she couldn't leave. Still…"I want to be here for him when he wakes up. He needs me."

"I won't disagree with you on that one, but he's only awake for an hour. There are twenty three more where you have to occupy yourself. This floor might surprise you. You aren't the first visitor we've had here, and not all of them were hostages."

Sara mulled this over for a while. "Alright", she said at last, "maybe tomorrow I'll have a look around. After he's awake. I don't want to be out of the room and miss it." The woman nodded and returned to her book.

Long after Sara had gone to bed she lay awake thinking. The opportunity she had just been presented with was certainly tantalizing. She knew that what she was considering was a risk, and if she got caught it wouldn't be her who had to pay the price for it, but she also knew that she couldn't continue to sit around and do nothing. Michael wouldn't want that, and if the situations were reversed he certainly wouldn't just sit around while she lay helpless under the influence of whatever they were pumping him full of. Sara didn't have the same kind of mind that he did, and she had no experience with what she was beginning to plan, but she wasn't completely useless. After all, this was nothing more than a hospital. And she was _very_ good at finding the little hiding places in hospitals.


	5. Chapter 5

"Michael? Michael, look at me", Sara said firmly, gently tapping him on the cheek. Slowly his eyes opened. They'd woken him up nearly fifty minutes ago, but every few minutes he'd start to doze off again. She wasn't sure if what they gave him to wake him up worked by blocking the other drugs or got them out of his system or otherwise neutralized them, but she was pretty sure that they weren't giving him enough of it. Even though they didn't want him fully alert and awake, she wasn't sure how well they could monitor his cognition when he could barely keep his eyes open longer than a few minutes. He'd actually started to drift off in the middle of the orderly performing tests such as following his finger with his eyes.

He blinked his eyes glassy and his expression confused. "Sorry", he mumbled. She supressed a sigh. He was doing his best; it wasn't his fault that his system was flooded with whatever sedative they had given him. Still, it was exhausting trying to carry a conversation with him, trying to keep him focused. It had only been two days, and already Sara didn't know how much longer she could keep doing this.

"It's ok", she said, for what was beginning to feel like the hundredth time. He lifted his hand to brush her cheek. It was a small gesture, but she could see how even that had worn him out based off of how slow his hand moved and how hard it dropped back beside it, and her heart sped up slightly. She pressed her forehead against his and shut her eyes. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me".

"I won't", he whispered into her ear. "You and Link will find a way to get us out of this." She looked at him and really wondered for the first time how all of this felt to him. She was pretty sure he didn't entirely understand what was going on, simply because of how drugged up he was. Yet despite this he was still trying to comfort her, and give her strength. He still trusted her, and right now she needed that more than she had realized.

She stroked his head. "I love you so much". His eyes closed again, but he didn't seem to be falling asleep this time. Slowly his hand raised the back of her neck and he drew her in closer to him. She nestled her head on his shoulder and he gently kissed her on the top of her head. She shivered slightly from the feel of his breath on her skin.

Soon after the orderly came over to sedate him. Sara held his hand tight, and he squeezed hers back just as tightly as he slowly filled the syringe when there was a knock on the door and the woman from the night before walked in. Sara was surprised to see her; this was the first time she had seen the same orderly more than once in the two days since the surgery. "Anderson, the General needs to speak with you. Immediately. I will take care of that", she indicated to the half-filled syringe in his hand. He looked slightly baffled, but left without argument.

She walked over, picked up the syringe and continued filling it. "I've been assigned to be one of his main caretakers", she explained as she eased the needle into Michael's arm. His eyes caught Sara's, and in the split second before the drugs overtook him and those brilliant eyes of his closed, she could see the vulnerability in them that he tried so hard to hide. She could see how afraid he was, and how desperate he was becoming. No coded message, no hidden meaning. In that moment, she knew that he was truly relying on her to come up with a plan.

The orderly glanced around the room. "I'm sorry about this you know", she said in a low voice. "I don't want to do this to you. Or to him". She looked at Michael for a moment, her expression somber.

"Then why do you? Why do you even work for them?" Sara asked, a little more confrontationally than she had intended. So far this woman was the only one who had been kind to her and she didn't want to alienate that. But at the same time, this woman worked for the Company, and Sara was wary of her.

The woman considered for a moment, her eyes thoughtful. "Well this wasn't exactly my plan. I finished top of my class in nursing school. That was what I wanted. To be a nurse, to help people. I never thought I'd end up as an orderly."

Despite herself, Sara was intrigued. "So what happened?"

The woman gave a bitter laugh. "Ambition happened, I suppose. I've been with the Company since I was, oh, probably around twenty-seven. As I said, I was the top of my class, and when I graduated I had no problem finding a job at a hospital, and I got noticed pretty quickly by people much higher up than me. You see, I had a way with people. Essentially it was nothing more than a good bedside manner, but I was able to get patients to cooperate in a way that no one else was able to. I could get them to calm down, sit still, take their pills, whatever it was that needed to be done. And people noticed. It wasn't long before the phone rang and the voice on the other end asked if I was interested in a new job. One where I would get paid more than I could possibly hope for at the hospital, and where I would be instrumental in helping to change the world. Naturally I was curious. So I met with the general, although he wasn't the general at that time, and before I knew it I had a dream job, one that not many people could even dream of. It never struck me as odd that they didn't hire people as nurses, they hired them as orderlies. I was getting paid more than I ever would in a nursing job, so why would the title change bother me? And I was going to change the world."

"Anyway, I've been here since then. At first I had all these dreams of rising in the Company, because to rise in the hierarchy here you don't need specialized training; you just need to be manipulative and willing to do whatever it takes to get yourself ahead. I learned that the hard way several times. As far as rising, I was never ruthless enough to get ahead. Not to say I was a saint, I hurt plenty of people, plenty of _friends_ to get myself as far ahead as I could, but there was always someone willing to go just a step further, willing to hurt more people to get what they wanted. Because that's how it works in the Company. If you want to get ahead you have to take out the opposition, not just beat them. I have more clearance than most of the other orderlies, but I'll never be more than that. I can't even call myself a nurse, because somehow I lost sight of that dream while trying to climb ahead in the Company."

The woman finally paused to take a breath. "So now you know the whole, sad tale. I wouldn't expect you to understand, when you are actually selfless, and are working for something better than yourself."

Sara looked at her for a moment. "But from what you've said, you weren't selfish. You took a job offer, and tried to get as high in it as possible. You wanted to change the world. Why is that selfish?" Part of her wasn't even sure why she was attempting to comfort the woman, but she couldn't bear to have anyone else in pain in the room.

"That isn't the whole story. You've no idea what I've done while working for them. And while most of the time I did it because it was an order, I've screwed so many people, and I've hurt so many lives." She wasn't exactly blinking back tears, but Sara could hear her voice catching every few words. "Like Michael. It wasn't fair what we did to him."

"Michael? You…you didn't do something to him during surgery, did you?" Sara felt panic welling inside her again.

"No, when we took away Christin…" she stopped looking completely horrified with what she had just said. Without another word she rushed out of the room.

Sara wasn't entirely sure who she had been talking about, but she knew that Michael would know. And that meant that somehow, when the woke him up tomorrow to monitor motor skills, somehow she was going to have to get a message to him to ask him.


	6. Chapter 6

It was dark, but this time the darkness didn't feel so oppressive. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel it fading away, rather than trying to suck him in. It was releasing its grip. Michael opened his eyes, easily. For the first time in what felt like forever, that act didn't leave him feeling exhausted. He blinked and looked around the room. His head felt a little fuzzy, but nothing like the fog that had enveloped him before, and he could feel it sharpening. He frowned slightly, and looked around again. Where was Sara? Panicking slightly, he started to sit up.

"Easy", someone put their hand on his shoulder to stop him. They were standing right behind him, so he couldn't see their face, but the voice told him that it was a young woman. Not Sara. "We have to run a few tests before you can get up".

She came around to look him in the eye. She was a nurse, and rather pretty, with medium length blond hair and green eyes, but something in her eyes reminded him or Gretchen. They had the same cold, unfeeling intensity that sent a slight chill down his spine. He knew that this was not a woman that would be easy to cross. "Wh-" his voice came out as a little more than a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Where's Sara?"

"She's right behind you", she replied, as she dug through her bag. He turned his head. Sara was standing on the other side of the window. She had one hand pressed slightly to it, and was staring intently at him. When he turned to look at her, a small smile spread across her face, and she waved slightly. He waved back, and tried again to sit up.

"No. Mr. Scofield, we have to run these tests to make sure that you are able to stand up. Doing so before we do could result in some serious complications." The boredom in her voice contrasted nicely with the firmness of her grip on his shoulder.

"Let me see Sara. I need to speak with her".

She gave a little laugh. "What, so you can give your girlfriend little messages to get the two of you out of here? I don't think so." Keeping one hand on his shoulder, she pulled a syringe out of her bag. Seeing his look of apprehension, she said "Oh relax. It's to take some blood, that's all. We need to do blood work without the interference of the sedatives". She slid it into his arm and took some blood. "See? That's all there is to it."

He nodded, keeping his piercing gaze on her. "Let me talk to Sara."

"Did you hear me? No. You are Sara and not allowed to have any contact during this. The last thing we need is the two of you planning to escape from here. Now sit up, _slowly_." He did as she said, and then turned to look at Sara. She looked exhausted. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her skin was paler than normal. Nonetheless, she looked beautiful.

"Please", he hated himself a bit for pleading, but he needed to talk to her, to make sure she was ok. And, yes, they needed to plan something to get out of here. He wanted her to explain again what was happening now that his mind wasn't scrambled. He only had fragmented memories of their last conversations, and he needed to know exactly what the Company was doing in order to figure out how they were going to get out of there.

Her eyes did not soften. "Until I receive orders telling me otherwise, I am not going to be persuaded to allow the two of you to speak. You can see her through the glass. That's the best we can offer."

Michael wasn't giving up, but he knew that this was futile. He sighed, admitting defeat, for the moment. He spent the next fifteen or so minutes performing various simple tasks for her, write our name, touch your toes, that sort of thing, but his mind was a million miles away. He was going through every possible scenario, and so far he was coming up blank. He considered attacking her and just running with Sara, but he knew that would never work. They would likely kill both of them. He considered refusing to do what she told him, but he was pretty sure that they wouldn't actually care. They would just drug him again and then he would be useless to Sara.

Finally the nurse finished writing on her clipboard. "Alright Mr. Scofield. You have…" she checked her watch, "about five minutes until we sedate you again. Feel free to walk around the room, if you wish. You should be happy to know that you seem to be recovering well from your surgery." And she left the room. He could hear the click of the door locking behind her, but he ran to it and turned the doorknob just in case. It was locked.

Slowly he turned and walked over to Sara. Her lips moved, but the glass must have been soundproofed, because he couldn't hear a word that. He shook his head and pointed at his ear to indicate to her that he couldn't hear. She nodded and stopped talking. He lifted his hand to the glass, and she did the same. He tried to imagine that it was her hand under his, rather than cold glass.

Sara bit her lip, and then her lips moved again. She was mouthing a word. _Christina?_ She looked at him inquisitively. He was confused. The only Christina he knew was his mom, but she was dead. She must have seen his confusion, because she mouthed it again. _Christina?_

He leaned into the glass and breathed to fog it up. He then wrote MOM on the fog. She looked at it and her eyes widened in horror. Before he could try to understand what was going on, the door opened again and the nurse came back.

"Alright Mr. Scofield, please lie down for me."

He gave her a measured look. "I don't think so".

She sighed. "Look. I could force you into the bed, incapacitate you, or just sedate you over there and drag your unconscious body to the bed. But do you really want Sara to see any of that?"

He shook his head. "No. I am not being drugged again. We can't go anywhere. I can't even talk to her through the glass. I don't even know where we are; let alone how to escape from here". Part of him knew that this was futile, that she wasn't simply going to be talked out of sedating him again, but he refused to just let her. She had asked what he wanted Sara to see. Well he certainly didn't want her to see him just let them render him helpless again. He couldn't protect her or find a way to get her to safety if he allowed that.

The nurse actually rolled her eyes. "This is your last chance to be reasonable. Get on the bed." What was most disconcerting was that she didn't seem bothered by this at all. She was ready for whatever course of action he decided to take, and she was certain that she would win. He didn't frighten her even slightly.

"No."

She sighed. "Alright. If you are going to be like that…" and she ran at him. He had thought he was ready for whatever she did, but he wasn't prepared for how fast she was. She caught him behind the knee and had him flat on his back before he had a chance to react. She straddled him on his chest and slowly filled a syringe that she hadn't lost in taking him down. He struggled against her, but she had her knees digging into his elbows and he couldn't move his arms. He tried to flip over, but she had been expecting that, and as he did she grabbed his arm and bent in behind his back. And somehow she was still sitting on him. Now he was on his stomach with her on the small of his back with his shoulder protesting at the angle she was holding it. He struggled, but every movement he made just increased the pain.

And then he felt the prick in the elbow that was behind his back. He immediately forgot about her and the pain and began to panic slightly. Uselessly he fought against the wave of dizziness that crashed over him. For perhaps a moment or two he managed to keep his eyelids open before the weight of them became more than he could bear and the closed all on their own. His last thought was of Sara. _Christina?_ And then the darkness claimed him.


	7. Chapter 7

"MICHAEL!" Sara watched in horror as the nurse tackled Michael and pinned him down long enough to plunge the needle into his arm. She couldn't believe how easy it had been for her. True Michael was probably still a little slow from the surgery and the drugs, but she knew that he was pretty fast and strong when he needed to be. It was almost incomprehensible that she had been able to accomplish it so quickly and efficiently.

Her chest filled with anguish as she watched him stop struggling, and his eyelids close, once again imprisoning him. The nurse got off of him with disgust and rolled him over with her foot. As she watched his head flop around uselessly, it felt as though an iron band was slowly tightening around her. She felt weak and nauseated, and most of all she felt very afraid.

Leaving Michael where he was, in a heap on the floor, the nurse straightened her uniform and primly walked out of the room. "You're allowed back in now", she called over her shoulder, barely acknowledging Sara's presence. No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Sara was running into the room to Michael's side. As far as she could tell, he hadn't been injured when he had hit the ground, or when she had been forcing him to stay down. The relief she initially felt was then replaced by despair. How was she going to get him onto the bed? Sara was in pretty decent shape after all the excitement of the past few months, but she knew there was no way she could lift a deadweight Michael. But she didn't want to leave him on the cold floor. It was just pathetic.

Eventually a new orderly came in, and she got him to help her get Michael to the bed. He tried to put the IV that was supplying him with nutrients back in Michael's arm, but Sara pushed him aside and did it herself. She gently stroked his face before turning to the orderly, already sitting patiently in the chair. "Another orderly said that I would be allowed to wander around this floor, so long as I didn't leave. Is that true?" she asked.

He nodded, but didn't say anything. He just reached into his bag, pulled out a crossword puzzle, and began filling it out. She gently kissed Michael on the forehead. "I'll be back in a bit".

As she left the room she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Lincoln's number. He answered on the second ring "Yeah."

"Hey, it's Sara".

"How's Michael?" He tried to hide it, but she could heat the concern in his voice. He was worried about his little brother. Sara almost laughed, which she quickly supressed. Clearly the stress was starting to get to her.

"He's…ok, as far as I can tell. They woke him up fully to make sure he's recovering properly. He doesn't seem to be experiencing any complications".

This time he didn't bother trying to cover his emotions and the relief was easily recognizable. "Good. That's good."

Sara's heart raced, hoping that was she was about to say wasn't against the rules. It wasn't a coded message, and she didn't think it would help them get out of there, but it was definitely prying into Company matters. "Can I ask you something about your mom?"

Link was clearly caught off guard by it, but he said "sure. What do you want to know?"

"Her first name. It was Christina, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Just curious. Something one of the orderlies said earlier. I think your mom may have been involved in the Company somehow".

She shared this last bit of information somewhat reluctantly, as she expected it to be a huge bombshell. So it was her turn to be surprised when Link replied "yeah, she was. The general told me all about it. From what I can tell, before she died she was pretty high up there".

The wheels in Sara's head began turning. The orderly had mentioned Christina, but not as though she was dead. And if she was dead, she probably wouldn't have cut herself off when she mentioned her name. There wouldn't be any reason to keep her secret, unless it was to keep the brothers from knowing that she was in the Company. But if the General had told Lincoln that she had been there, then what could they be hiding?

"Sara?" she realized she hadn't responded to Link.

"Sorry. Listen Link, I'll call you back later. I have to go" she had to get off the phone. She couldn't stay on without revealing what she was starting to suspect, and she couldn't reveal what she was starting to suspect until she had more proof.

"is everything ok?" he sounded a little bit like Michael. A lump started to form in her throat. She had thought that she was starting to adapt to the current situation, but with that one question she almost lost it again.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just…can't really talk right now" she was impressed with how she managed to control her voice. It shook a little, but didn't betray her.

Considering Lincoln was normally the one who kept the conversations short, he seemed rather reluctant to let her go. "Alright. Michael…he's ok, right? You would tell me if they did anything to him?"

"Of course. He's ok for now. I really have to go" She hung up before he could respond. She felt guilty about it, but she had to find out what had happened to Christina. And find a way to get them to let her be in the room with Michael in three days' time when he was woken up fully again. And work out the start of a plan to get the two of them out of there before he was awake so that she could somehow start to prepare him, and get his opinion. And do all of this without arousing suspicion, because if they figured out what she was up to he would die. She had no delusions about that.

For the next couple of hours she wandered around the floor. There was more than she expected. There was a small room that she supposed functioned as a sort of library, because it was filled with books. She took one, thinking that having something to read during the night would greatly improve her state of mind. She found the kitchen, although at the moment there wasn't anyone there. She looked through all of the cupboards, not really expecting to find anything helpful, but because she was curious. There was plenty of food there, which she took note of.

Continuing on, she found a room that resembled a home theatre. It had a couch and a wide screen tv, as well as a small (empty) popcorn machine by the wall. She also found several other rooms for patients. To her surprise, Michael wasn't the only one there. There was a woman who covered in bandages, and a man who seemed to be in a coma. Briefly she wondered if he was a prisoner there as well, and then dismissed the thought. Even if he was, there was nothing she could do for him, and he could just as easily be someone from the Company receiving some sort of treatment. What she was more concerned about was whether she could expect to run into friends or family of these two. If they were with the Company it was possible. The library and theatre were there for _someone_.

She also found a lot of supply closets. Considering the floor wasn't really that big, there seemed to be a disproportional number of them. Most had sheets, pillow cases, things like that, but there were also three or four that had drugs, spare IV's, and other extra medical supplies. In one she picked up a bottle of morphine. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't tempted to use. Michael was relying on her, and she wasn't going to risk letting him down like that. She didn't linger, but made note of where each of them were. They might come in handy later.

One thing she noticed was that there were no windows in any of the rooms. She had assumed that they were underground, but this was confirmation for her. Whatever they were going to do, she would have to take into account that they would have to take either the elevator or the stairs, which, come to think of it, she hadn't found yet. She assumed that they would both have security cameras, which were a complication that she had no idea how they were going to get past.

Finally returning to the room, her mind was reeling. Looking at Michael, she had to wonder if this was how he felt all the time, trying to process a hundred things at once. Her head felt like it was going to explode, and all she had were questions with very few answers. She almost envied him lying there, peaceful, mind at rest. Not having to plan on how to get multiple people out of a secure facility safely and most importantly not get anyone killed.

That thought made her smile a bit. Because she was envious of _Michael _for not having to deal with that? Telling herself to get a grip and stop being jealous of the man who had been in her situation already more than once, and who was now being held captive in his own head.

She silently ate her dinner, and tried to read the book that she had taken from the library. She briefly thought about writing in it and leaving it for him to find when they woke him up, but that was too obvious. They would catch onto that before she even picked up the pen, not that she had one of those to begin with. And even of it worked, they might realize that it was a little out of character for Michael to just pick up a book and read for his precious half hour.

Lying in her cot, listening to Michael's rhythmic breathing, she slowly began to formulate a plan. She knew she needed him. He would see the details that she had overlooked and would know how to deal with the problems that she had identified. But it was definitely a start. As she slowly drifted off to sleep, she thought about Lincoln. Was he making any progress in retrieving Scylla? Because if he was she was going to have to move fast. One thing she knew for sure was that Michael would never forgive himself or Link if it fell back into the hands of the Company.


	8. Chapter 8

The next day, Sara got up early and went to explore the floor again. She intended to spend as much of the day as possible learning the entire layout of the place. It was essentially four hallways that formed a square. Michael's room was on the opposite hallway as the elevator. The theatre and the library were also on opposite hallways, each adjacent to the elevator and Michael's room. The woman's room was in the same hallway as the library, and the man's was in the same hallway as the theatre, which was the same hallway as the kitchen.

One thing that she did notice was that there weren't a lot of Company employees around. There was always whichever orderly was sitting in Michael's room, and once she saw a nurse in the same room as the woman, but she never saw any of them in the hallways. From this she inferred that the whole floor was monitored by security cameras and that there was security for the elevator. She also still had not been able to find the stairs, something that concerned her because she assumed trying to take the elevator would end in an ambush.

The first three or four times that she walked around the floor she didn't go into any of the rooms, she just opened the doors to see what they were and tried to commit them all to memory. Every room was unlocked, so she figured they weren't worried about her finding anything. Or they didn't think she would risk Michael's life to look. Which, she reminded herself, she was doing so she had to be extremely careful not to give any indication of what she was planning.

The fifth time she walked the floor, she started to explore the rooms themselves. The library was interesting, small but probably the cosiest room there. There was nothing very exciting about it that she could find, no hidden doors or escape routes. She looked behind all every bookshelf and found only walls. There was a desk in the corner that she examined. There was nothing around it or underneath it that was helpful in the way of getting out of the building, but when she looked in the drawers she did find a screwdriver. It was probably there is fix the desk or bookshelves in need be, but she could think of other uses for it. She didn't take it with her, in case someone checked and saw it was missing, but she was very glad to have found it.

The theatre was similar. It was such a small room that she hadn't expected to find anything anyway, but she carefully examined all four walls, especially behind the screen. Nothing at all. Walking away, she felt her stomach growl. How long had it been since breakfast? A few hours at least. She headed to the kitchen, figuring that she could simultaneously check it for a way out and make something to eat. That way she even had a legitimate excuse for being in there, should someone ask.

The kitchen was a disappointment, as a kitchen. There really was not a lot of food in it, although she did find a box of pasta so she got some water boiling for it. And there was a jar of sauce in one of the cupboards so she heated that up as well. While waiting, she looked around. The kitchen was a lot bigger than any of the other rooms on the floor, and had several doors that she assumed were storage or pantries. She had looked in two of them, both of which had nothing but cleaning supplies, when something on the wall caught her eye

It was an emergency escape route, which made sense seeing as she was in the room that could potentially result in a fire. On it, it had the usual precautionary message about not using the elevator in case of a fire, and had the stairs highlighted on a map. Now she could see why she hadn't been able to find them. There were two sets of stairs. One was in a supply closet just down the hall from Michael's room, and the other was here in the kitchen. She looked around and quickly located the door that corresponded with the map.

She went over to it, but hesitated before actually opening it. What if it was alarmed? She examined it, and wished for the millionth time that Michael was there with her. He would know how to actually check the door for alarms. She ran her fingers under the opening. No alarm sounded, and she couldn't feel any wires, although she supposed that was more like checking for explosives than an alarm anyway. The door was made out of metal which just made it feel more intimidating, although she assumed that they could alarm a wooden door just as easily.

Taking a deep breath she turned the knob. Nothing. It was locked. Sara felt like kicking herself for being such an idiot. Of course the door was locked. They weren't going to just leave it open, so that anybody could just walk on out. But…it was an emergency exit. So there had to be a key around somewhere.

Excitement building again, Sara promptly began to search the kitchen, looking inside any boxes she encountered, looking at the tops of cupboards and under the countertops. She examined every place she could think of until the smell of smoke caught her attention. Her pasta!

She ran over to the stove to find the sauce that she had been heating completely charred and the pasta a black, smoking mass. She dumped both into the garbage, and as she did she heard a tiny click.

She ran to the door. It didn't _look_ any different. Then again, how would a door look different, she chided herself. Heart racing, she slowly turned the knob…and it opened. Just a crack. She was so surprised that without thinking she quickly pulled it shut, in case they could somehow know about her opening it. As soon as she did, it clicked again. When she turned the knob for a third time, the door was locked again.


	9. Chapter 9

Maybe he was building up a tolerance to the drugs they were pumping him full of. Maybe being allowed to be actually awake and coherent for a half hour had given him extra will power that he hadn't possessed before. Or maybe they were waking him up a little more than before because they were tired of fighting with him to stay conscious while they did all of their bloody tests to see if he was in danger of complications from his surgery. All Michael knew was that when he felt himself beginning to wake, his mind was actually capable of forming thoughts about why he was actually capable of forming thoughts.

It was still a struggle to pull his eyelids open. But for once he knew why he was doing it. Sara would be there. He would get to see her for an hour. His thoughts dulled a bit as he tried to open his eyes, but he would rather see her than be able to think clearly. They couldn't plan anything with the nurses and orderlies there anyway.

Except when he finally succeeded in opening his eyes and looking around, she wasn't there. Confused, he stared blankly at the chair that she normally sat it. He couldn't comprehend how she wasn't there. She was _always_ there. She always sat in the same spot holding his hand and talked to him. He checked his hand just to be certain that she wasn't holding it. She wasn't. He scanned the room as best he could without moving. No Sara. There was a woman there, a different one than the ones he had already seen-_how many of them were there anyway_- but she wasn't testing him yet, she he didn't care about her.

He shut his eyes. The brightness of the lights was hurting them, and Sara was the only thing he really wanted to see anyway. If she wasn't there, there was no point in keeping them open. And when he wasn't trying to comprehend all the external stimuli it was easier for him to think. Where was she? They were in the Company, so she must be…but he was drawing a blank.

Frustrated he squeezed his eyes tighter. Maybe if he blocked out everything he would be able to think clearly. But it was useless. He couldn't come up with any answers, and he wanted her there with him. Childish as it was, he wanted to know that she was there for him, that he wasn't alone. He wanted her to hold his hand because he didn't have the strength to hold hers, and he wanted to hear her reassuring voice, telling him that they were going to get out of this. That he wasn't going to be spending twenty-three hours a day unconscious for much longer. He was actually having difficulty breathing, because it felt like someone was sitting on his chest. He missed her so badly.

And then a soft hand was gently tapping his cheek and the weight lifted. She was there after all! He smiled and opened his eyes to look up at her…except it wasn't her. It was the orderly. She was going to perform the tests as per usual. His heart sank.

"Mr. Scofield, I'm going to sit you up to perform your tests." He nodded. She could do whatever she liked. He really didn't care, because his head was still clearing and it had finally occurred to him that Sara wouldn't just leave. What if they had killed her? Actually killed her this time.

"Where's Sara?" he asked as she pulled his bed into a sitting position.

She didn't look up as she replied, "I don't know. I haven't seen her today. So how are you feeling?"

The question didn't make any sense to him, for a couple of reasons. The more obvious one was because he was drugged up, being held against his will, and Sara was missing. So how did she really think he was feeling? And secondly, if she was asking as one of the tests weren't they supposed to save questions like that for when he was fully conscious. He was a lot more awake than he had been the last few times, but he could still feel the strong pull of the drugs, trying to take him under again. It would be incredibly easy to shut his eyes and drift off, forget everything that was happening. Even the thought made his eyes heavier.

"Mr. Scofield?"

His eyes popped open. As per usual, he hadn't even realized he'd closed them. "Sorry" he mumbled. What was he supposed to be doing again? Right. How was he feeling?

"Where's Sara?" he asked again, even though she'd already said she didn't know. Whether that was true or not, she wasn't going to change her answer, and he knew that. But he still desperately wanted her to tell him.

"Let's talk about you. Basically the doctors have said that they don't want you sedated quite so heavily because they think it might interfere with your recovery. You've probably noticed that it's easier to stay awake." He nodded. "They've also said that they want us to monitor your speech every time we wake you up. Normally we would do that by watching you talk to Sara, but seeing as she isn't here at the moment you're going to have to settle for me. So how're you feeling?"

Michael almost smiled. He remembered Sara asking the same question once at Fox River after he'd gotten burned on the pipe. He gave the same answer now that he did then. "Groggy".

She nodded seriously and wrote something down on her clipboard. "That's to be expected, seeing the amount of sedatives in your system. Are you experiencing any pain or discomfort?"

He briefly considered trying to come up with some witty response such as "being drugged all the time is pretty uncomfortable", but it sounded lame even inside his head and trying to think of something better was too exhausting. So he just shook his head.

She pursed her lips. Clearly he was not giving her what she wanted. "Mr. Scofield, it's not really possible to monitor your speech when you only nod, shake your head, and give one word answers. Can you please try to give me a little more to work with?"

"Tell me where Sara is, and I'll talk more". The truth was it was just so tiring stringing together that many words, but she didn't have to know that. She could think he was being difficult for the sake of it if it meant that he could find out.

She sighed. "I honestly don't know where she is. She's allowed to walk around the floor if she wants to. She probably went to look around or something. No offence, but it can't be super interesting sitting here with you all day."

Now he didn't know what to think. Was she lying? Was it true? But Sara wouldn't just go out and look around when she knew they were going to wake him up, would she? All of this thinking was making his head pound. He was getting dizzy too.

"So, can you give me something? Anything at all so that I can tell the doctor that everything is ok?" There was some bell ringing at the back of his mind, a plan forming that he wasn't really aware of, but try as he might he couldn't figure out what was nagging at him. After a couple of minutes the feeling went away, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something important.

"Well, clearly I can talk. I'm just so tired", he told her. He wasn't even lying. He was getting more and more tired the longer they sat there. She nodded and wrote another note. Then she did the usual tests to make sure that he was healing properly, and soon was preparing a syringe.

He stared apprehensively at it. He hadn't seen Sara yet. He wanted her to leave him conscious, at least until he could see Sara, and confirm to himself that she was alright. The fact that she hadn't been there for the entire hour was frightening to him. And he wanted to wait until his head cleared and he could think straight. Being able to think better was good, but it wasn't enough. He needed more than being capable of coherent thought; he needed to be able to think critically and to plan. He needed to be able to talk and move without feeling ready to pass out at any moment.

"Please", little more than a whisper escaped his lips. He hadn't wanted to plead, it wouldn't do any good. And it wounded his pride a bit to be so weak. But he hated the situation he was in. He couldn't imagine anything worse than what they had come up with. They had imprisoned him in the one place he couldn't escape from, his own mind.

She patted his arm sympathetically, and slid in the syringe. He didn't bother fighting this time. He just closed his eyes and waited for the world to disappear.


	10. Chapter 10

After Sara finished cleaning all of the scalded pasta and sauce, she went back to the door to try and figure out why it had opened so briefly. She had a suspicion that it was because of the smoke, it was an escape door after all, but the fact that it could only be opened once was curious. Not a very effective escape route if it closed before everyone was out.

After a while of staring fruitlessly at a door, she finally thought to check the time. To her horror, it was almost three. _Michael_! They always came to wake him up at _two_. From two to three was the hour that she got to spend with him. And she'd missed it!

Without a second thought she ran out of the kitchen and sprinted down the hallway to his room. What would he think if she wasn't there? She got there just in time to see the orderly pull the syringe out of his arm and his head drop, unconscious again. She stood there gaping, not believing that she had missed it. She only had an hour with him every day, and she'd been too busy trying to figure out a door to come for it. Guilt washed over her.

"Oh, hello Ms. Tancredi", the orderly said, noticing her. "He was asking about you. You can't have gotten tired of him already, have you?"

"It's Dr. Tancredi", Sara snapped, too angry to think. Who was this woman to think that she was tired of Michael. She was trying to _help_ him.

The orderly smirked. "Of course, _Dr._ Tancredi. Although I prefer not to call anyone doctor who doesn't have their medical licence". And she walked out the door. Blood boiling, Sara stared after her thinking of a thousand ways to cause her pain. She was well aware that the woman had been trying to get under her skin, but being aware of it didn't mean that it hadn't worked.

Taking a few deep breaths to try and calm herself down, she slowly walked over to Michael. "Michael, I'm so sorry." She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it once before placing it back on the bed. "I'm so sorry." She didn't cry; she didn't have any tears left to cry. But part of her felt she was breaking as she looked at him lying there all alone, and thinking of how confused he must've been waking up without her there.

Her phone rang; it was Link. She hadn't called him yet, and he must've gotten worried. "Hello?"

"Hey, Sara. How's Michael?"

She glanced at his unconscious form. "He's…alright. No change as far as I can tell. How're things going on your end?"

Lincoln hesitated before answering her. "We've had a few…setbacks."

Fear flooded through her. "Setbacks? What kind of setbacks? Lincoln, if you don't get Scylla, I don't know how long the General will wait before he kills Michael."

"I know, alright. But um, Gretchen's been shot and she was our best chance of finding it. Without her we don't have any idea where it might be. So it's taking a little longer. I talked to whoever has it on the phone though. It's a woman. Now we just have to figure out who she is"

"How did you manage to get her on the phone?" Sara asked incredulously. Not to doubt Lincoln, but it sounded a little far-fetched that he'd just somehow managed to get this mysterious woman on the phone without knowing who she was.

"Gretchen killed one of the guys working for her. I took his cell phone. Don't think she'll call it again though."

"Ok, so do you have any way of tracing the number or…or finding out whom it belongs to?" Sara asked desperately.

"Mahone's working on it, but at the moment, no. We're stuck. Look Sara, I'm a long way from giving up. The General is not going to kill Michael. But...I'm not really sure where to go at the moment. And they're watching Sofia and LJ. If we fail, it isn't only Michael that dies." Sara could hear the despair in his voice. Lincoln was so tough, but right now he sounded like a man who had been pushed to the breaking point and was barely holding on.

"I trust you. Michael trusts you too, when he's awake enough to know what's happening. You'll figure something out. You'll find it." Sara made herself believe what she was saying. She wasn't lying about her and Michael trusting him, they both did completely, but she wasn't positive that he could find it, considering all that he was up against. But, the bothers had achieved the impossible more than once. So she made herself believe it.

"As I said, we're a long way from giving up", Link had a forced determination in his voice, but forced was better than nothing.

Sara hesitated a second before asking her next question. "So…Gretchen's dead, then?" A few months ago she would've never taken herself to be the kind of person who would hope that another person was dead, but now she wanted with every fibre of her being to hear those words.

"Doubt it. She was alive when we left her. But she knows better than to talk. She's not a threat." Sara's heart sank. Gretchen was alive. Her own personal monster was still breathing. Just the thought of it made Sara feel sick to her stomach.

Lincoln must've picked up on her discomfort, because he quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, how's Michael doing? Still out of it most of the time?"

"Yeah, basically. He doesn't really talk much when they wake him up, because he's so groggy. Personally, I think that if they want to actually see how he's doing they're going to have to wake him up more because he can hardly keep his eyes open." Sara looked over at him as she said this. A new wave of guilt washed over her for not being there today.

"I'm…I'm glad he has you there", Link said. Sara's heart almost broke. She 'd known that this was extremely difficult for Lincoln and how much Michael meant to him, but until that moment she hadn't _really_ considered how hard it must be for him having no contact with him, and having to trust that they hadn't hurt him. She wanted to say something to make it better, but what could she say? I'm sorry that I'm here with your brother while you're out there unable to see him? I'm sorry that you have to live with the knowledge that if you screw up, Michael is dead? Somehow she didn't see that being very comforting.

"Look, Sara, if this doesn't work out; I want you to promise me something".

"Yeah?" she unconsciously gripped the phone tighter to her ear, almost afraid of what he was going to say.

"I want you to…to do whatever you can to help Michael. Anything at all." His voice was low and husky. It sounded like he was fighting back tears, which was something Sara couldn't picture. She had never seen Lincoln break down, and she didn't want to know what it would take to make him.

"Sure. Of course I will." She said, reassuringly. This was just like when he'd thought he was going to be executed, and had asked her to look out for him.

"I mean it Sara. _Whatever_ you think would be best for Michael", he said, still sounding odd. And then she realized why. He was trying to send her a code a subtly as he knew how. The voice change was fear that the company would guess what he was doing, not tears.

"Of course. I'm…I'm already working on figuring out what I can do for him. I'll do my very best to make sure that he's ok". She promised

"Thank you". With that, he hung up. Sara sat on the bed, staring at her phone. . Now she was afraid too. If things were going this badly for Lincoln that he was telling her to break Michael out, then she would have to work faster than she thought to make a plan. Because it was only a matter of time before the General's patience ran out and he came for Michael.

She gently rubbed his shin. "Not too much longer Michael" she promised. And, maybe it was her imagination, but it almost seemed like he gave a small twitch as she said those words. _Not too much longer._


	11. Chapter 11

Sara left the room again not too long after her call with Lincoln. This time she went to explore closets. She wanted to know where the linens were, the medicine, extra supplies, anything at all. And she wanted to see if any of them had ventilation shafts or something that she could use as an escape route.

The first closet was not promising. It was for linens, and as far as she could tell it actually was just a linen closet. After spending close to a half hour examining the walls, the floor and the ceiling, she was forced to conclude that there was no secret way out of the building there.

The second one was not much better. Also a linen closet, it had no way out except for a tiny ventilation shaft. But, Sara reflected bitterly, you would have to be about the size of a doll to fit through it. There was no way that they were going to get out that way.

Slightly discouraged, she moved on to the next one. This one was full of little vials containing medicine. Although she started by examining the baseboards, one of the labels caught her eye. She'd never heard of it. She looked at another. She'd never heard of it either. Actually, she realized as she looked around, she'd never heard of any of them. She'd already been pretty certain that everything here was experimental, but to be sitting in a room full of experimental drugs was something else altogether. It hit home that her medical training would not be of much use to Michael because she had no idea what she was dealing with.

She picked one up to examine it closer. Standing in a closet alone holding a small bottle of clear medication reminded her of her days at the hospital, before she's cleaned up and gotten the job at Fox River.

"You aren't going to want that", a quiet voice came from behind her. Sara wheeled around like she'd been struck. Standing in the doorway of the closet was a girl. She didn't look older than nineteen, so Sara assumed she was an intern of some sort. She was smiling a little knowing smile.

"I'm not going to want…what?" She felt guilty, like she'd been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing, and she wasn't sure what the girl was talking about. She didn't want anything in here except a way out.

"That", she pointed at the vial in Sara's hand. In her surprise, she'd completely forgotten about it. "You were looking for morphine, right? We have some somewhere, although I don't think here. That is used to wake you up. Not much use when you're looking for a high."

"I…" Sara felt completely dumbfounded. She had no idea how to respond or how to get out of this situation.

"Look, you don't want morphine either. Trust me. You know the nausea that comes with it? And constipation? Gross. Now _this_ stuff" she walked over to another shelf and picked up a similar vial. "_this _stuff is way better. Gives an even better high, I'd say, than morphine does, and it doesn't have any of the side effects. Here." Sara took the bottle without really thinking about it.

The girl seemed to sense her apprehension. "Look, if you're worried about someone finding out they really won't care. We get so much of this stuff all the time that they won't mind one little junkie getting a fix every once in a while. No one cares when I use it so long as I'm fine for my shift."

Sara looked at her closely. She didn't look like a user; she seemed completely with it and didn't show any of the physical signs either. She looked at the bottle in her hand. "What is this anyway?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "Please don't ask me to pronounce it. But it's a sedative. Same one they're giving your boyfriend actually. But small doses it acts as a pain reliever. Here, want me to show you?"

"Um, that's ok. I'll just…" Sara stammered.

"No, seriously, someone should be with you when you use it the first time. The dosage is a little tricky; there isn't really a standard for it, just basic guidelines. Come on, let's get you back to your room first. You'll want not a hard floor if you pass out"

Dumbly, Sara followed her. She had no idea how she was going to get out of this. She wasn't going o lie to herself and say she wasn't tempted to use, get away from the stress for a few hours. _Michael_, she reminded herself. _Michael needs you_.

Back at the room she looked at him, blissfully unaware of what she had gotten herself into. "You know, I don't think this is a good idea. I'm clean, so…"

The girl ignored her and rolled up her sleeve. Sara felt like she should stop her. "This stuff isn't addictive and doesn't have side effects. You don't have to tell your program about it." She pulled out a syringe and carefully measured out some medication.

"That's really ok. I'll just…" Sara could hear the panic in her own voice. She didn't want this, no, she really didn't want this. She was clean, she was healthy. She wasn't going back to that, not ever.

"Shhhh, it's ok. You'll love it." And she slid the syringe into Sara's arm. For a second she felt nothing, then a sudden warmth. It was like stepping into a warm bath after a long day. She felt all of her muscles relax, and dimly she was aware of her head dropping into Michael's lap, still sitting in her chair. Her eyes closed. It was wonderful, she felt like she was floating, and she was happy. It was like she was sitting in a golden glow, where nothing could hurt her.

A small part of her mind protested the feeling at first, and then it grew quiet. She sat there not thinking about anything, just basking in the comfort of her new friend. She couldn't feel Michael under her head anymore, but that was ok, she didn't remember that anyway. How long she sat there before she finally succumbed to sleep she would never know.


	12. Chapter 12

**So I told myself I wasn't going to post anything as the author, but I just wanted to say that I really appreciate the feedback I have gotten from everybody. I know parts of the story are a little repetitive, but that was by design and after this it should get a little more exciting. Still would love to hear what people think and if they would like me to continue posting. **

Sara felt herself slowly drift back to consciousness. As she awoke, she braced herself for the headache and nausea that she knew was coming. It came every time she took morphine. But it seemed that the intern-or whatever she had been-was right. As she became more and more alert she felt no side effects from what she had allowed to happen the night before. It felt as though she had done nothing more than take a sleeping pill to get a good night's rest.

When she finally opened her eyes she became aware of two things. The first was that she was still in the same spot as before, with her head on Michael's lap. And the second was that he was awake. That caused her to sit up with a start.

He looked like he had gone through hell, which was almost impressive since all he had done was lay in bed. His eyes were red and he looked exhausted, which was not unexpected. But rather than looking exhausted from the effort of keeping himself awake as per usual, he looked more like it was caused by stress. "Sara?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly on the second syllable of her name.

She grasped his hand tightly in hers, and studied him. His eyes still had the glazed, distanced look of the drugs, but it was less pronounced than before. "Sara, are you alright?" he breathed, his voice full of concern. She realized how this must look to him. Yesterday she hadn't been there at all, and today he came to to find her passed out on his lap. No wonder he looked so freaked out.

"Yes, I'm fine. How're you?" she asked, trying to sound normal, and keep the guilt out of her voice. The last thing she needed was to put extra stress on him by letting him think that she was using again. Because it wasn't going to happen again, _right Sara?_

He attempted a small smile. "I'm alright. They've finished all of their tests already. And they're bringing me back to consciousness a little better than they were before. It isn't impossible to keep my eyes open anymore." His face grew serious again and he leaned in closer to her. "Seriously Sara, where were you yesterday? What happened?"

"Nowhere. I was…just wandering around and lost track of the time." She was impressed by the nonchalance of her voice, but one look at his face made her stomach turn with guilt. He looked completely hurt, and she could see how that must seem like a brush off. She looked around for the first time to see if there was anyone there, and of course there was. "You remember that day in Fix River that the riot broke out? And you saved me from those guys who were trying to rape me because of your first PI assignment?" He nodded, still looking hurt, but she could see a glimmer of that familiar shrewdness behind his eyes, trying to understand what she was trying to say.

She chose her next words carefully, trying not to give away that she was talking in code. "I still think about that day all the time. I don't think I ever properly thanked you."

"You don't have to thank me for that." He looked confused, and she knew that he didn't understand what she meant at all, but he knew that there was something more going on than what she was saying. He knew that she hadn't jut abandoned him.

She still tried one more time. "Of course I do. You probably saved my life. If you hadn't had that PI assignment to make that possible, I'd probably be dead right now." His eyes had narrowed slightly when she brought up the PI assignment for a second time, since they both knew that he hadn't known about the crawl space from PI. She wanted desperately to ask if he understood, but she couldn't.

He lifted his hand and gently rested it on her cheek. He opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment the orderly who had been sitting in the corner came over. "Mr. Scofield, your hour is up. Ms. Tancredi, if you don't mind."

It crossed Sara's mind to kick up a fuss and try to stop him, but she knew perfectly well how that would go. She moved her chair slightly to give him room. She looked into Michael's eye and sighed. She could see the defeat in them too that told her he wasn't going to fight it either. "I'll see you tomorrow", she whispered, as she watched the clear fluid drain into his arm-the same fluid that had been in her system not too long ago.

"You too", he replied with a sleepy smile as his eyes clouded again and gently shut. She sat there for a few minutes and stroked his head. She couldn't supress the rage at herself that was steadily growing. She had missed him completely yesterday. Today she had barely seen him because she had been too weak to resist the lure of one worry-free night.

Finally she dialed Link's number. He answered on the first ring. "Sara? Thank God. Are you and Michael ok?"

She was taken aback at the panic in his voice. "Yeah, of course. Why? How're things on your end?"

He took a couple of breaths to steady himself, "Not so great. Without Gretchen we've basically got nothing. No leads, no clues, not even a trace on the cell phone number of whoever has Scylla. The General is getting impatient. I don't know what to do, and he's got Sofia and LJ. Just watching them for now, but if it takes much longer, I really think he'll hurt someone. And he's got everyone important in my life. He's got my entire family".

Alarm grew for her with every word he said. She had never heard him open up like this. If he was truly this frightened, then he must be nearly at his wit's end for how to retrieve Scylla. They had to get out of there _now_. "Calm down. It can't be as bad as you think. There must be something more, something that you haven't tried."

"I…there might be. I'm not done yet." She couldn't tell if he meant that literally, or if he knew that she meant that she was going to get them out. If she could think of a plan. Fast. Talking in code all the time got too difficult to keep up with sometimes. But either way he sounded slightly calmer. "How's Michael?"

"He's…he's good actually. They're bringing him out of it a little more than they were before. I think they're tired of him dozing off every time they try to test him. But he seems coherent enough. Incredibly, I think they may not have done him any damage by drugging him all the time, which is an impressive feat."

"Good. Glad to hear it", he still sounded shaken, but almost back to normal. "And Sara, I'll figure something out. You and Michael aren't going to get burned because of this."

And all at once the half-formed plan that she'd had in her head finalized itself. _Of course_. She knew exactly how she was going to get them out of there. It was incredibly risky, but if it worked the two of them could be out of there as early as…tonight. "I'm sure you will. We'll see you soon." She put a reassuring note in her voice, hoping it sounded as though she was encouraging him and keeping herself hopeful.


End file.
